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I feel so far behind. My brain says why bother? I open the computer and stare. I tell myself a million times a day, “you should be writing.” I pace around my dining room table with my Mac mocking me. I lie awake at night thinking about story ideas. Yet, I don’t write.

There are huge numbers of indie writers out there that have multiple books under their belt. Some are making great money, some are not, but all of them have written more than me. And I feel inferior. The angrier I get about this fact, the less I feel like writing. My gut tells me there isn’t enough time to get anything completed. I end up feeling frustrated about my lack of progress. I don’t write. It is a vicious circle.